


get the balance right

by icemachine



Series: doom patrol daily drabbles [5]
Category: Doom Patrol (TV)
Genre: Autism, Fluff, Gift Giving, M/M, author is autistic, fuck you niles caulder
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-16
Updated: 2019-08-16
Packaged: 2020-09-02 10:24:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 875
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20274394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icemachine/pseuds/icemachine
Summary: Larry doesn’t talk about it often.Being autistic, that is.





	get the balance right

Larry doesn’t talk about it often.

Being autistic, that is. It’s as if he’s ashamed of it, like he wants to hide it - a crucial aspect of his being that cannot be ignored. Even after coming out, even after confessing his  _ true  _ feelings for Cliff - he’s still ashamed. If Cliff had anything beyond a brain, he would be aching. Larry deserves to be happy. Larry deserves to be  _ comfortable.  _ Sometimes he’ll say something like  _ I’m having sensory overload, and I need to go to my room  _ or  _ I hate the texture of the bandages  _ \- but he never says the word, never alludes to the reason for his sensory issues. 

Cliff, on the other hand, has a different story.

Shortly after his... resurrection, Niles mechanically informed Cliff that he seemed to be abnormally sensitive to things such as light and sound. He viewed it as a flaw in Cliff’s design, something that he needed to continuously work on until Cliff could handle “the unpredictable real world.”

“But,” he had said. “It’s always been like that. Ever since I can remember. Shit’s hard. It’s not like that for you?”

_ No. Not at all. _

Two weeks after Cliff learned how to climb steps, Niles took him back into his lab, discussed how he had been “observing Cliff’s behavior” and “came to a conclusion” that the sensory issues were not due to something  _ he  _ had done, but rather a problem - as he had phrased it - that lied within Cliff’s brain itself. It was also why it took him so long to figure out how to walk.

“Autism spectrum disorder,” he said. “A developmental disability.”

…

It took Cliff one conversation with Larry to realize that autism isn’t a problem, and that the Chief was still stuck in whatever era he grew up in.

_ “He told me the same thing,” Larry said. “Well… not under the same circumstances. But you know what I mean.” _

_ “Yeah.” _

_ “He also told me he was working on a way to get rid of it.” _

_ “What? But if it’s part of your brain, how is that even possible?’ _

_ A shrug. “I don’t know.” _

_ “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with it. I mean, if it’s part of you, you gotta… get used to it or whatever. It doesn’t have to be a bad thing.” _

_ “Chief acts like it is.” _

_ “He doesn’t always know everything.” _

Fast forward. Cliff has made his ultimate goal this:  _ make Larry accept himself. Again.  _ They’ve been  _ officially  _ together for one month. Today is the anniversary of the Reveal. He’s pretty sure that Larry doesn’t realize it, but  _ Cliff  _ has been enthusiastically counting down the days for one reason.

He bought it three days after he started dating Larry… and promptly forgot about the purchase until it arrived two weeks later. A weighted blanket, patterned appropriately with roses. It’s the ultimate gift; it’ll make Larry feel comfortable and content, and Cliff will feel like he’s actually done something  _ good. _

Still. He’s nervous. What if it’s inappropriate? What if he fucked up and it’s just gonna make Larry invert even more?

Whatever. Larry  _ needs  _ this. Cliff knows he does. Larry knows that he does, too. They’re not going anywhere. 

He thinks he can see a slight tremor in his hand when he knocks on Larry’s bedroom door. “Safe to come in?”

“Yeah.”

He kicks the package out of sight as he enters Larry’s room. “Hey.”

“Good morning.”

“You know what day it is, don’t you?” 

“It’s Tuesday, Cliff. Don’t you have a calendar in your room?”

“What?” He watches Larry; it takes an embarrassingly long time for him to realize that it was a joke. “Oh. Very funny.”

“Of course I know what day it is,” Larry says, moving closer to Cliff, closer - closer - until his head is against Cliff’s shoulder and they’re holding one another. Soft. He wants this forever. “A month. I’m… I’m grateful, Cliff. I’m lucky to have you.”

Sometimes Cliff wishes that he could cry, wishes that he could display any kind of emotion,  _ something  _ to show Larry how important he is, how calming his words are, how peaceful and  _ correct  _ it feels to have Larry hold him. He can’t, though. He knows he’ll never be able to do that, so instead he hums a soft tune, and follows it with: “Oh, I almost forgot.” It’s not a very convincing lie. “I got you something.”

“You didn’t have to—”

“Yes, I did.”

It takes two minutes for his robot hands to undo the packaging without ripping the blanket, and he says  _ fuck  _ probably more than is warranted, but he feels proud as he carries it back to Larry.

“A blanket?”

“A weighted blanket,” Cliff corrects. “Here. Get on the bed.”

“I expected you to say ‘get on the bed’ today, but not for this reason.”

“Just trust me.”

Larry lets out a sigh as Cliff places it on top of him. So slow, so gentle.

“It feels nice.”

“It’s supposed to help people who are - uh - who have sensory issues - it’s supposed to be calming. Is it?”

It takes Larry a moment to decide, but: “Yeah,” he says. “Yeah, it is.”

“Good. You don’t know how much I worried—”

“Thanks, Cliff,” Larry says, curling into the blanket, “I love you.”

  
  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> cliff and larry are autistic and i'm right! anyway thank you for reading . feedback appreciated<3


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